


Do so in remembrance of me

by Newance



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, blurbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:23:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newance/pseuds/Newance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Terezi lives in the forest, true, but not all is so peaceful in the silent solitude. Terezi has a secret past time, remembering the trolls that died in the arms of the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do so in remembrance of me

It was that one troll she found so long ago, on the verge of death by his own demise, you were young, but he was not. His teal blood, much like your own, leaked from the corners of his mouth, and you gazed with infantile, innocent eyes, at the dying man.

“My name,” He whispered, and you leaned in close to hear the words.

He was the first.

You went home and sat down after leaving his long dead body, and you sewed a scalemate, teal and green, like his blood on the forest floor. You took a rope and tied a noose, leaned out your Hive’s window, and hung it on your tree branches.

This was the first of many. The stuffed animal holding the Troll’s name and backstory. His life was hard, and he couldn’t live it any more.

You found another one a week later. Her rope hadn’t snapped, though, and her eyes were blank and white with death. 

She was the second. 

Another toy was made, another noose, another branch occupied, and you made it your secret mission to find as many of the bodies you could, and carry on your somber tradition.

You’re hanging number 413, and you pause, he’d been a teal blood, and you could tell he hadn’t died from a broken neck, but a slow, painful strangulation.

_“Young one. Please listen to me. Remember my name, for nobody else will. I’m going to die here, among dirt and animals, and beside you. You’re so tiny, so very innocent, and I apologize for tainting your world. Do something with my name, just a reminder that I existed. That I wasn’t worthless. Do so in remembrance of me.”_

That little sermon from sweeps back still clung to you. So you look out your window, at the blue and green scalemate, and you sigh deeply.

You long had stopped naming the toys after their symbolic owners; instead you gave them new names, and slightly more joyful backstories than those you imagined. 

When people visited, they asked about the scalemates.

“Why so many?”  
“Do you do this many trials?”

The truth being mostly no, you didn’t do this many trials, and you didn’t dare mention the ones scattered through the silent forest, usually left in the very place a body had hung. 

It was the least you could do.

The very least.


End file.
